Morrowind: Target Vvardenfal
by Leth
Summary: So you know all about vampires and magic in Morrowind eh? Then follow the path of Kenil, as he returns to a homeland so dear.
1. The truth as it is told

It was an old morning by all accounts. When the lights of dawn rose from the horizon, and the lights of the full moon dwindled as it was overtaken by dawn, the sounds of mages flapping their brown or blue cloaks could be heard – sounds of dust being blown away into the mountains to the east. It seemed to Kenil, as he sat motionlessly above the causeway between the Gorograd Mountains westward and the little village of Rake alongside the east coast, that he could hear more than constant flapping of cloak blown by wind, that he could hear the steps of mules and men moving from those passages, and hard earned raspy voices – human voices, coming from the central lands of Cyrodil, where there were few elves, except occasionally for the merchant Mer who frequented the East Cyrodil Trading Company near the empire's capital.   
  
Those hard-earned human voices came from a night of hard work. It came from constant daylong labor earnestly done. There was reason, too, not just because of vigorous men who had enough energy to expend. For somehow, on top of the Gorograd Mountains, one could just a line of black above the horizon, like a river of dark above the sea, a place of true fear. All the time, men moved defensively through the Gorograd Mountains, stopping once or twice along a protrudence of rocks, to climb them, and to watch the land across the strait, knowing a charge might take place led by whatever things might appear while they slumbered. 'Haste! Better to be safe and defended!'  
  
News no longer came from across the sea. The bards had once been virulent, trying to spread word of war and chastise amongst the Great Houses, their songs had dictated by old elves that, at last, finally hid all charades of peace. And amount of time these aged elves had lived, they had had peace – which was a very long time by human standards. They had watched each other through the vile temper of ancestry even prior to the establishment of the Empire. The knowledge that their dead fathers had fought once, dead not long ago, did even less to prevent them from wrecking havoc. It was only the transient dictations of the Empire that stopped their wars, until – until the Empire itself had at last weakened. For a thousand years, an elf could live. Surely they could also wait.   
  
Yes, in Morrowind you could live a thousand years and still not know all the history that influences its nature. Humans are considered outlanders. People who come but don't belong. Native elves considered them useful at times, but completely irrelevant at more important things.   
  
It was a bad time for the empire and the rest of Tamriel. Uriel Septim, the 38th emperor – the last of the long lineage of rulers, died not long ago. And when emperors die, part of their empires diminish, creating holes and gaps to be filled by new alliances – or by battle.   
  
A long time ago, Man evolved in Tamriel through the Nordic Tribes called ancients. They were hairy creatures with great bodies capable of carrying large weights. Their knowledge of skills was rudimentary however. The Elves, or Mer, could live for a thousand years, most who did not for specific reasons: wars, famine, and disease. Truth be told, no one knew how there could be so many species as once, although some speculated it might all be because of the three god-moons circulating Tamriel, at always some place some time, and giving off their blossoming magic changing Men and Mer into the things they are today.   
  
But of all the species, Man and Mer, there was nothing more different, more distinctive, than the dark elves. The reasons were not just because they were dark, not because they can vary from all different types of ugliness to sanguine beauty in its everlasting thousand-year form, but because they truly wrecked havoc! The coasts parallel to the Gorograd Mountains packed plenty of elves, especially dark elves, and that gave reason to suspect of possible hostilities away from Morrowind. As the old saying goes, 'wood elves are the nature lovers, high elves are the mind trainers, and dark elves – well they are the smartest, the most romantic, but, hah!, they are also the destroyers of life eternal!'   
  
A few days ago, all the news that came from Morrowind the last few weeks told them the ongoing conflict remained strong. But then… the news stopped. They no longer heard any noises coming from over the neither the strait, nor any boats crossing it. Perhaps, some thought, all hostilities had finally stopped. Perhaps a house finally took over the beachhead and had some reason for not allowing anyone to trespass through. For some reason, the current makeshift counsel ordered the positioning of guards all over the coasts surrounding Morrowind. This was a dangerous time though no one knew why.  
  
Kenil walked the streets clumsily, not knowing what to do or who to come to. Just then, he felt his body bump against a great stonewall. A cyrodil by looks. The large bulky man looked down on him. Seeing this, Kenil shook his head and apologized, took his wine bottle along with his glassy gaze and made a path for the man. He waited there with his dizziness all around him, but the man he bumped into did not move.  
  
The cyrodil was quiet, and so was Kenil, so neither disturbed the peace in light of the morning sun. Soon, Kenil felt a little wayward, it seemed he was being scrutinized over by him. Had he committed a crime?  
  
"Need work?" The man said. Kenil response was stoned, 'what?'   
"Do you need work, dark elf?"   
Kenil said, "more than ever, sir."  
"Come with me."   
  
Kenil couldn't believe him. Who would ask a drunk off the streets to work? Especially a dark elf! They were wildly known as burglars and robbers. Kenil wondered, 'am I being tricked? What would a person do with a dark elf?' Nevertheless, he followed the bulky man who he happened to bump into. Through dark openings, and channels he never knew, Kenil arrived under a house of some kind. The place wasn't extravagant, or it would 'be robbed in this place', but nor was it a complete dump like the rest of the small fishing village. The appearances - Kenil told himself never to rely on appearances, (until he saw himself in the mirror and knew what he saw said many truths about him inside) – were normal, just a little on the better side of normal.   
  
After entering the door containing not just one, nor two, but three locks, inside Kenil found a junk. 'This place is a mess! Was this the work he'd been asked to do?' He asked himself.   
  
The large human looked down at him, "help me clean this up, but beware dark elf, I'll be watching you."   
Kenil didn't know whether it was time to ask for pay, besides he could use anything even if all of it were for a drake or two. So he began to work alongside the house owner. It was true; the man did pay attention to him every once in a while. At one point however, the man made a quick route to a place in the house where his sight could not remain vigilant. Kenil looked at his absent spot, knowing, as a dark elf knew, that the perfect opportunity to steal had been innocently offered to him. Kenil decided not to though, he didn't know what to expect if he did get caught.   
  
A long while passed, and Kenil continued to sweep and clean the house, while there were sounds of movements in the backroom. Soon, the man came back, this time his cloth were cleaner, not so much as a pauper's cloth any longer, but something decent, thought Kenil. For some reason, Kenil didn't think the bulky man fit into his own home. Perhaps it was some detail Kenil's conscious mind was not aware of.   
  
Kenil worked, the day came and went, and when the house and all the mess had finally been cleaned, the cyrodil man looked at Kenil, worn and tired and unbelievably thirsty. The cyrodil entreated him to sit. 'This is awkward,' though Kenil. He anticipated the man would pay him and onward, he'd be back on the streets of the village Rake where there was a tavern to quench his thirst.   
  
After leaving him to retire on a chair, Kenil's gaze looked around the room, 'amazing!' The place appeared much more uniformed now it was no longer a mess. In fact, thought Kenil, it had changed along with the cyrodil man. The bulky cyrodil, now dressed in a fashionable cloth, arrived back with a bottle of red liquid. He offered a drink to Kenil.  
  
Kenil couldn't help but take his hosts offer. When his eyes gazed on it, the red liquid appeared juicy and tasteful. The sounds it made in the container squished. His mouth would have watered, if there were any moisture left in it. After looking back at the cyrodil, he decided with more impulse than thought before reaching for the container, 'to oblivion!'   
  
After he drank it, the cyrodil began to speak. "You are a dark elf, yes?"  
Kenil nodded, slowly, shyly.  
The man looked at him in the face, in a questionable manner. His own face showed strictness with warm behind it. "If being a dark elf is a sin in these parts, then you would have committed a great crime… But it is not." For the first time, Kenil realized along with all the many things he'd only recently saw, that this man, the cyrodil who offered to pay him from the streets, had a true knowledgeable appearance around him. The man said, "never be afraid of your heritage, Kenil. Do not listen to others speak of Morrowind. No man should shy away from his birthplace."  
'How? How? How does he know this of me?' That was all Kenil could whisper – think.  
The cyrodil picked up some logs and flamed the fireplace behind him. Against the bright background, the man's figure seemed completely different. If there were any thought in Kenil's mind that the pauper he met was not the pauper he saw in front of him, he completely believed it. He seemed, oh, wise.  
Slowly, Kenil felt himself loosing all control over his words. He felt he needn't say anything other than the truth. Besides, what could this man do to him that he couldn't have done already? The broad figure in a barren background explained himself, "I am Erectus Sirocco. I am a woodsman, a carpenter, and an architect of the old emperor."   
'What did he mean by 'of the emperor'?' Kenil soon realized he had spoke.   
"Yes." The man named Erectus responded.  
'Where are my own thoughts?' Had he said that, too?   
"You drank them away."   
'A truth serum! The drink!'   
The man smiled.  
Kenil said out loud (not that it made a difference): "Why have you done such a thing to me?"  
"Why else? To test you. In such a condition as this, there are more spies for the empire than there are people. Only a truth serum can remove all obstacles. Now that I know everything you think, no lie can escape me. Are you a spy?"   
'No."  
"Very well. The effects of the potion should wear off overnight."   
'Overnight!'   
The man waved it away, "I need the service of a dark elf, and you are the perfect employer. Little doubt you are alone, no family, no relations here in Rake. Otherwise you wouldn't be wondering the streets from sunrise to sunset."  
'Yes, that is true…' The words just slipped out.  
"I knew such a thing even before I heard you say it. You see – I've been following you and several other dark elves like you for several days now. Keeping check if you will. You should feel lucky you are the one I chose first, otherwise the position might be taken."  
'What position?'  
The man avoided the question at first. "Many say there are more dark elves who are burglars and thieves. They say, city elves even steal from their brothers. And the women are promiscuous. The men are… darker among things. But, I wonder then, how much have you stolen?"  
Before Kenil could think of anything else to say, he had named all of them.   
"I see none of them are from my home." Erectus laughed, "Ha! Very well, Good! Here then is the next question: how would you like to accompany me on a journey to Morrowind?"  
'Depends.'  
"The journey is good, the food will be provided, and your earnings be profound. You will serve under me, act as a dark elf while I am not here, as a cyrodil with manners when my presence demands it."  
'Is that all?'  
"No. One more: you must answer it with a yes or no. Can you be trusted?"   
'Yes. You can trust me.' Said Kenil under the truth serum.   
  
Erectus broadened his smile. "Good! Good. Nothing in this world can exist without trust! Well then, I shall tell you my story, and be gone with finding other dark elves for the task, you will qualify for what I give you.  
"A long time ago, I was a simple low plebian just as you. And the truth; I became a freelance carpenter so I may work inside. From there, I could position myself so that I could learn all the rooms, thinking that later on I could use the knowledge I obtained to gain access to the house. Little did I know that I would be proficient in my work and that my skills were sincerely adequate for the task of carpentry. I knew then that I could earn more doing hard earnest labor than rely on the risky task of taking things that does not belong. My job pushed me day and night then, until I was so well known as the fixer who could fix, and make things better along the way. Because of this, word spread and I received a letter from the emperor, Uriel, begging me to fix his royalty's kitchen for all the food could not be made but imported and rotten every time the cook tried to go without it. You see, the thought of stealing something splendid in the palace occurred to me but I pushed it away, just as you will push it away. Anyway, afterwards the kitchen was made usable again and I was rewarded, with my very own company and men to run it."  
  
"Anyway, from then on my relations with the emperor not only strengthened but his palace sought me out when he needed fixing anytime. I began using that advantage to strengthen my own business, courtesy of the emperor, and as work prospered, my idea also broadened. I tried many things during that time. With power comes the ability to risk things you normally would not do. I risked much money in sending travelers and knowledge seekers around the world, just to understand how other races develop their homes and such. Finally, all the investing I did paid off and I began to develop my very own structure of an ideal home. The emperor's reaction to this influenced me even greater, for he said, and these are his words, 'Our empire stretches far and wide, compassing all the nations of Tamriel, if we are to have peace save for conquering new lands settle by the Hordes of Arcadia, our cultures must intermix.' And what better way to mix than by gathering a conglomeration of the best ideas and setting them into a house?"  
  
"So afterwards, I set about bringing all companies that competed for carpentry together, in Cyrodil, for there was much work to be done and there was little need to compete with that much work. Then we set out building new house and turning Cyrodil inside out with new additions. That took little less than three years. By that time, all of Cyrodil had changed from the old shacks and houses left over from the 2nd era and the great efficient expanses required of the 3rd. But then, that only the nation of Cyrodil. We had grown rich during that time, too, all companies who participated, and now we have so much money, but no where to use it. Our resources would have diminished as time passed and we would have reverted back to the state before all this. Thus, many of us turned to other businesses. One well-known man, who came alongside me when I was given my business by the emperor, this man turned into trade. Thus, you often hear the words East Cyrodil Trading Company being uttered time and again. I on the other hand, decided to remain. Carpentry is my life, so for as long as I live, I will abide by it!  
"Other companies who joined us in our revolution also tried doing as they had before. Some went to Elswire, the land of the wood elves, others went to Summerset, place of the high elves, and some even went to Morrowind. I stayed back in Cyrodil to continue my business. However just now, the man who went to Morrowind no longer sends messages of his progress. I wonder then, how that can be, for even though we were of different companies, we had once joined together, and no one, by any chance of mind especially not a great friend like him, could possibly risk severing that relation."  
  
Finally, he was done: "There you see, is my dilemma! He is my friend. A great one who also accompanied me before I became famous, thus he was even a greater friend than anyone else I met afterwards. He now sends no messages to me from Morrowind, and I wonder if he is in danger. And since the substitute council that now governs the empire has blocked passage to Morrowind, bless the old emperor's soul, I have no choice but to make it through undetected. I will take several others with me, but… most of all, I need someone who once knew Morrowind. And since this fishing village of Rake was just founded not long ago before anything started, I suppose most dark elves who are here arrived from Morrowind, all the better. And as for you, I think you've finally received some good luck, perhaps."   
  



	2. Men and their greeds

Kenil told Sirocco all the knowledge he could gather, but said there were some within his head that he would not remember until he saw them on Morrowind. At any other time, Sirocco might have considered this to be a lie, but under the effects of the truth serum, he believed the dumner. Kenil was saved. 

"I see," said the cyrodil, "and they understand common imperial slang?"

It came to Kenil while he nodded along that the Cyrodiil knew very little of the going-ons in Vvardenfall. 

"And do you recognize this?"  Sirocco pulled out a map of Morrowind. On it, several obvious marks indicating mysterious things stood out clearly.

Kenil for a while did not recognize the marks, "Yes sir, I do. That, I believe is where the Hiaalu keep their treasure. And that is the opening to Red Mountain."

"Very well! I was not wrong to pick you! You recognize both Ghostgate and the stronghold of Azuir."

Kenil nodded, "But sir, why are they important?"

"The stronghold of Azuir? It would be where our friend would most likely be if he was indeed trapped on Morrowind. Ghostgate, too, is a heavily defended place, and I was told there are treasures stored there."

It was at this point that Kenil understood that a friend was not all what Sirocco was after. _He _saw it as another business attempt, and there was money to be gained. "Ghostgate is far inland, and the trek to it is many days on foot, where no horses can find footing!"

"Yes, but no doubt, because of this "house" war many of the guards posted no longer exist… posted. I see you disagree. But nevertheless, we will venture there." And that was that. 

It was here, too, when Kenil realized the shortsighted but irrepressible greed among men.

The boat rocked while the ocean intermixed with water streaming out of the Odai. The shore of morrowind appeared nearer second by second, even as the boat rocked back and forth by the waves. The river above the sea, the black river, enlarged when the boat carrying Kenil neared. The line of dark expanded far from the left, and curved away into the right, with the middle at greatest width – there in the center of it all stood a great mountain. 'Red Mountain.' It was called. 'The last battle stand of the legendary legions of House Daggoth.' Kenil remembered those honorable names taught to him. The stories surrounding the mountain were told in myths, most of which happened during the years prior to the first imperial era, where there were no empires. Even now, some of the eldest elves could remember those days, even though the humans had already come and gone through a dozen generations. 

The crew at last met the shores. They climbed out resiliently around the trees, pulling the boat through shrubs and native greenery. Finally, they found a place beneath the canopy of several trees, not too far inland. They tugged and tugged until their presence was well hidden. Kenil recognized the place. It was on the west side of the island no doubt, for they had debarked from Rake, called the Bitter Coast. Lathered with marsh and shrubs, Kenil knew he was not wrong. 'Everything centered around Red Mountain.' In the north was the Sheogorad islands and barren rocks and deserts, east was Azura's Coast and Zafirbel Bay, and south was Vivec located within the Ascadian Isles. 

Celebrating mildly, the crew gathered to from a circle. In the center stood Sirocco holding a map and sending directions. An Alkaviri named Slither stood besides him with a noble bow. Kenil could see that the Alkaviri was armed to the thick. Next to Kenil was another Alkaviri, and on the other side stood several well-armed mercenaries. Lastly, there was present a cyrodil much like Sirocco himself, whose origins Kenil also did not know.

"Ve shuld' sitch her…" said the Alkaviri beside Sirocco. 

But there wasn't time, for the next second they were attacked by a knife that imbedded within the reptilian's neck and made the spitting of its tong into a gaggle of its throat. Kenil quickly turned, but was flung down by the Alkaviri next to him, who pressed onto him a knife just as soon as another imbedded into one of the mercenaries. "Gahh!"

"Get back to the boat!" Cried Erectus Sirocco to those left alive by the continuing wave of throwing knives. 

Kenil ran and dodged and fled through the forest. He had not seen anything behind them the entire time except the _thud, thud _of knives as they imbedded themselves onto trees. When they had managed to flee towards the boat, he could see Sirocco's bloody arm motion for the three of them (for the last mercenary and the other cyrodil had vanished) to level the boat back onto the water. It was at this time that Kenil saw some dark shadow from within the cloaked confines of the trees, a slither, before Kenil braced the boat onto the water and was protected by the outer edge. As they rowed away, the sounds of _Thud, Thud _kept constant, as knives flew besides them and onto the boat's wooden hull…


End file.
